


While Our Hearts Are Still Beating

by lieano



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Confessions, Ghost Hunters, Ghosts, M/M, Pining, Sharing a Bed, creepy ghost things, i just love ghost hunting this was so fun, implied violent murder, kind of a phasmo mechanic with a bfu atmosphere, of course, thank you phasmophobia and buzzfeed unsolved for the inspirations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28029033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lieano/pseuds/lieano
Summary: "So here was part of the problem. Yes, Niles was a ghost hunter who did not believe in ghosts, but that was just a very small irritation in the situation. He could fake it all day long for Leo. Sit in empty houses, talk to the air, pretend to see shadows moving, bring home ‘evidence’ of the supernatural and not point out all the ways things could be scientifically explained. The ghosts were not a problem because the ghosts were not real. But Odin was real. And Odin made Niles feel insane."
Relationships: Odin/Zero | Niles
Comments: 12
Kudos: 25





	While Our Hearts Are Still Beating

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Astra_Dark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astra_Dark/gifts).



> I wrote this fic as part of art trade with @Astra_Dark on twitter!! She asked for zerodin ghost hunting and as it turned out I've been simultaneously obsessed with playing phasmophobia and binge watching Buzzfeed Unsolved. I've had ghost hunting on the mind. I hope this fic is romantic enough and I didn't get TOO deep into the minutia of ghost hunting lol. This is also kind of a lowkey birthday present for @Hedgehog_Car who said all she wanted for her birthday was Zerodin. It just worked out that way. Happy birthday Iirin!! <3 Enjoy your gift Astra! <3 Thank you to anyone who reads!! <3 <3 Enjoy!!!! <3 <3 <3

After months of consideration, careful deliberation as he laid awake at night, picking through the pros and the cons and the alternatives, Niles had decided that he would simply have to ask for a new job. It wasn’t impossible. Leo had a tendency to get completely immersed in whatever his latest obsession was and, yes, he liked his top men to be on the cases of his highest priorities, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have other endeavors he was currently pouring money into. Niles could work the desk in the office for a little while, let Leo experience the field himself. That angle could work if he pitched it right. Or perhaps he could find something new that Leo might be likely to sink funds and time into. He could subtly, sneakily, leak things onto Leo’s desk until he was asking Niles to go treasure hunting or something else that might sound wild to anyone else on the planet but at the very least would be better than this.

“Do you like it?” 

Niles turned too quickly and with far too much trust. Usually his heart was guarded, but because he had let himself have this moment of mental respite, lost deep in the labyrinths of his own machinations, the damn thing nearly escaped through his throat when he found himself face to face with a violently dark charcoal drawing of a demon’s face, its teeth bared and eyes blown wide. “Gods!” Niles gasped, swallowing his heart back down and then gently knocking the framed painting away from his face. He narrowed his eyebrows at the beaming freckled face he found behind the portrait. “You framed it?” 

“Of course I did! I’ve never seen such detail in a spectral drawing before! It’s as if when I look into its eyes, I am looking into the core of an actual demon. A creature born of the fires of hell, its only will and desire to cause chaos and spread maliciousness! It is a dark reminder of the evils we contest with every time we go out in the field, don’t you think?” 

Niles’ one eye sat at a relaxed half lid as he stared into the middle distance, waiting. He barely even listened to the words coming out of Odin’s mouth. It was the same old junk anyway. If he wanted to take this hideously dreadful sketch and hang it up in the van like it was macaroni art a child of his own had brought home from daycare, then who was Niles to begrudge him? After all, he was going to ask for a transfer when this job was over. 

“Okay,” Odin said, a warning that he was about to say a lot more. He finished hanging the framed demon sketch and turned to Niles, hands on his hips and a twinkle in his eye. Classic power pose, a favorite of Odin’s. “We’ll have to split up until we find the room where the energy is centralized. I know you don’t believe in ghosts but try to remember to ask for a sign of existence anyway. They are trapped in purgatory between our world in the next, they simply long for connection. Reach out to them! Dig down deep in your heart and pull out the words you need to connect with the energies of the universe swimming around you! Don’t think of it like you’re talking to ghosts if you can’t comprehend that, think of it as your soul entwining with the cosmos from which you came. Return to the star dust that crafted your bones! Speak to nature, to creation, to the blood boiling in your very veins! Dibs on the EMF reader.” 

As nice as the van was, it was a cramped space full of expensive tools so when Odin concluded his ramblings by trying to reach for the little gray EMF reader on the racks, he had to squeeze by Niles, so close their noses almost touched. Niles caught an involuntary whiff of Odin’s hair. He held his breath then, and even he was unsure if it was to make himself meld better against the wall behind him so Odin could finish walking by, or if it was to keep that smell inside of himself a little longer. When he realized what he was doing, he had to focus on unclenching his fists curled inside his jacket pocket and relaxing his jaw. There was nothing to be done about his racing heart, unfortunately. 

So here was part of the problem. Yes, Niles was a ghost hunter who did not believe in ghosts, but that was just a very small irritation in the situation. He could fake it all day long for Leo. Sit in empty houses, talk to the air, pretend to see shadows moving, bring home ‘evidence’ of the supernatural and not point out all the ways things could be scientifically explained. The ghosts were not a problem because the ghosts were not real. But Odin was real. And Odin made Niles feel insane. 

It wasn’t the things Odin said or the things he believed in. Leo believed in all that stuff too, and Niles thought him to be one of the most intelligent and respectable men Niles had ever met. It was the way Odin… Existed. The way he moved. The curve of his bicep or the stretch of his torso when he struck poses during his monologues. The little vein that sometimes appeared in his long neck when he was feeling particularly passionate about something. The enthusiastic volume his voice climbed to, his confidence that his opinions deserved to be heard. And the soft twinkle of belief in his green eyes, something that had captivated Niles from the start. 

Cruelly, tragically, inevitably, over the past few years of ghost hunting with Odin, Niles had fallen in love with him. 

With his heart finally starting to regulate itself, Niles thought it best to not look directly at Odin for a little while longer, so he looked at the EMF in Odin’s hands instead. He watched the way Odin’s fingers slid open the battery pack to make sure it was loaded. The way he tweezed the dial gently, coaxing it on. Niles swiftly peeled his eye away and looked at the racks of other objects instead. 

“Take the thermometer,” Odin suggested. “Of course you’ll be able to feel temperature dips, but if you can catch a screenshot of unexplained freezing temperatures, Leo will be pleased.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Niles grumbled, but he scooped up the over priced yellow thermometer anyway. 

Odin went on, walking right over the short fuse in Niles’ tone. “I’ll investigate the main floor and the garage, you check the upstairs. There should be four bedrooms.” 

Niles inhaled and exhaled slowly through his nose. He was glad they were separating. Most people wouldn’t be. A haunted house with a reputation like this one would have people on edge, looking over their shoulder. But ghosts weren’t real and Niles knew it. There was nothing dangerous in that house. He was just grateful he would get some time to clear his head away from Odin, think more about what he would say to Leo about his transfer. 

It was a nice house. Or at least, Niles thought it was nicer than some of the places he usually investigated. Usually the locations Leo sent them to were things like ‘converted asylum’ or ‘abandoned prison’ or ‘farmhouse where a murder definitely happened, there’s still an axe in the mirror for gods’ sakes’. But this was just a house in the middle of the suburbs. They weren’t allowed to turn on any lights because of arbitrary ghost hunting laws, but Niles could still tell that the walls on the stairwell were freshly painted and the portraits of the nuclear family that hung there told a fairly pleasant, average story. 

Niles turned on his automatic ghost hunting voice and got to work. He didn’t believe in ghosts and had never in his life been presented with good enough evidence to change his mind, but he still was hired to do a job and he did it to the best of his abilities. It wasn’t like he was closed off to the idea. Oh, Odin might say he was, that his skepticism got in the way of discovery, but he genuinely tried for what it was worth. He walked up and down the halls and peeked around doors and routinely asked things like “Is there anyone in this room with me?” and “Can you give me a sign?” Thing was, the ghosts never gave him a sign. Because there were no ghosts. 

As he walked and talked to the open air, Niles let his mind wander. It was like any other job, really. He was certain people who worked at desk jobs also let their hands work on autopilot, typing numbers into spreadsheets while they thought about what sort of dip they should bring to the tailgate party on Sunday. Niles truly let himself get lost in a maze of disconnected, random thoughts. He left his physical person to be vulnerable so that his mind could wander with reckless abandon. It was the only time, really, that he let his walls down so completely. There was nothing here to attack him. Just an empty house. People were the things he had to fear, not ghosts. 

His arms pushed open the door to one of the bedrooms and he glanced around with his one good eye, barely taking in the decor. A large, plush bed that looked freshly made. A desk carved out of wood so old it was probably an heirloom. Satin white curtains partially covering the frosted window glass. He said, “Is anyone here in this room with me?” and his question left him in a visible little wisp. He thought about if he had set his TV to record the new episode of Law & Order, or if he’d remembered to switch his laundry into the dryer before he left. “Can you give me a sign?” A shiver ran up his back, but he let it run its course, made an involuntary grunt, and all together neglected to acknowledge that it was happening. 

It actually wasn’t even until a foreign weight was being draped across his shoulders that Niles realized he was cold, and by that point he was really more concerned with the fact that he was being assaulted, strangled, by something plush and soft. He spun around so fast he almost fell over, and just barely managed to not knock right into Odin. 

“Niles,” Odin said, looking up at him through half lidded eyes. Niles was startled, though now for an entirely new reason. Here he’d been, walking around with his guard completely shut off, and it had come to bite him in the ass. He hadn’t even heard someone approaching, let along walking up the stairs. That moment of vulnerability would haunt him (ghosts had nothing on paranoia) for days to come. And now, on top of that, he had to acknowledge what Odin was doing so close to him. His hands resting gently on Niles’ chest, just below his shoulders. Pressing a scarf into him, something he’d wrapped around Niles from behind. He tightened it, not uncomfortably, but enough so that the warmth seeped into Niles skin, banishing the cold he now realized had been slowly overtaking him. His eyes twinkled green in the wane blue light from the thermometer screen Niles held just below his chin. His long eyelashes danced across the apple of his cheek as he blinked and then there was green again. He was looking at Niles’ mouth. Niles was hypnotized, frozen in place, and not just because of the temperature dip. 

Oh. The temperature dip. When had that happened? 

A smile stretched long and easy across Odin’s expression and he took a half step back from Niles, certain now that the scarf was in place and lifting his gaze to meet Niles’, satisfied with whatever he had found on his lips. “I can see your breath. You found the spirit Niles. Good work! Let us make haste to retrieve the rest of the equipment so that this investigation can formally begin!” 

Niles waited until Odin was passed the threshold of the room before he let himself breathe again. “Fuck,” he whispered. His heart rate was erratic. His breath left him in quick spurts as he tried to catch it, hanging visibly in the air, taunting him. 

It took two trips to bring all of the junk up from the van. Niles was never quite sure why they needed all this stuff. Not a single thing Leo had equipped them with was invented to find ghosts. They were just everyday tools that some whackjob somewhere had said would produce evidence, and so ghost hunters the country over, desperate for anything to cling to, had bought into it. Now Electromagnetic Field Readers flew off the shelves, where before they would perhaps only be used by electricians to find faulty wiring problems in homes. Leo had purchased the most expensive thermometer on the market. It was able to take pictures of the area around it and read heat signals as well as area temperatures. Niles was certain it could be put to better use in wild game hunting or something. 

There were more simple things, like video cameras and EVP’s, but all video and sound evidence could almost always be explained away by other variables. Animals, houses settling, gods forbid other people chatting in the next room. Niles had never seen a planchette move on its own without someone touching it or witnessed something floating disembodied in midair. He’d left open journals in rooms and come back to find them doodled in, but anyone can draw a pentagram. And then there was the most bogus instrument of all the ghost hunting tools, and the most annoying to boot. The bane of Niles’ entire existence. 

“I’m going to fire up the spirit box now,” Odin announced, as a courtesy warning, before he flicked on the little radio in his hands. Niles could feel his headache coming on even before the grating static screeching of the machine overtook the room. It was a halting, abrasive noise. The machine combed through local radio stations at a brisk pace and most of what came out of it was just the feedback, but it had to be cranked to maximum volume just in case any solid words creeped through. They were easy to miss otherwise. Anything the two of them said now they would have to shout over the noise. It was like nails on a chalkboard, but worse, because it was continuous torture until they got some evidence or gave up, and Odin was not a quitter. 

“My name is Odin Dark,” Odin bellows to the room over the deafening static. “My compatriot here is Niles. We would like to know if there is anyone else in this room with us.” 

A voice that sounded vaguely like a woman’s broke through the static, but if it was an actual word it was indistinguishable. Niles was already glaring at Odin, so when he turned in alarm their eyes met. 

“We need actual words,” Niles reminded him. 

“Of course,” Odin said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But that’s promising.” 

It wasn’t, really. The spirit box was the easiest instrument to get evidence out of because of the nature of how it worked. Any sound that came through would just be from the radio stations. Of course, if there were any prolonged phrases or, gods forbid, a give and take in Odin’s very simple script with the ghost, he and Leo and hoards of other ghost hunters would claim that the spirits were using the words of the radio stations to communicate. Easier to get than EVP’s, easier to explain away as far as Niles was concerned. 

“Can you tell me your name?” Odin asked the empty room around them. Niles bit back the urge to roll his eye. Odin was practically vibrating with excitement. 

“Mary,” said a very clear voice in the radio. 

“Mary,” Odin breathed. “Is there something you’d like to say to us, Mary? A message you would like to have passed on?” 

“Help,” said the box. And then, with very little pause between, “He’s coming.” 

Odin’s free hand, the one not gripping the box, flew up at that point to grip Niles’ elbow. They were standing side by side, bent over the little radio. Surrounding them were video cameras balanced on tripods, recording little dust mites floating through the air that Odin would later squeal over and call ‘ghost orbs’. But right now, in this moment, he had different evidence to be excited over. Niles could feel him vibrating through his hand, a little imperceptible wobble to his balance. Niles tried not to focus on the fact that Odin had picked him as his anchor, even if the thing he was getting excited over was just an ordinary AM radio. 

“Who?” Odin asked, his voice only quivering a little. “Who is coming?” 

“The big man,” the girl’s voice said. She sounded frightened. Usually, the voices that came through the radio did not have emotion in them, but even Niles could trick himself into hearing a little frightened quiver in the intonations. “He comes with a knife.” 

“Oh,” Odin breathed, and in that single syllable Niles could see his words leaving him. Usually Odin had all sorts of words for ghosts. He could speak to the dead for hours, waxing and waning on the dark poetry of death while the radio flung single syllable words at him like ‘Hey’ and ‘Yes’ and ‘Cool’. But this had rendered him speechless. Niles cleared his throat. 

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Niles asked over the static, trying to mitigate his voice to sound less monotone than he was inclined to. 

“Hide,” said the girl’s voice. “He is coming. I don’t want to die. Run. Hide.” 

And then a scream ripped through the radio, so piercing and loud Niles had to cover both of his ears. Odin fumbled for the off switch and then there was silence, save their panting. 

“Whoa,” Odin gasped. “Did you-” 

“Don’t ask me if I heard that,” Niles said flatly. “I’m not sure I could respond seriously.” 

“But! Niles! That was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before! We have to call Leo right away!” 

Odin set the spirit box down on a nearby dresser so that he could fish his phone out of his back pocket. While he dialed and chattered in the background, Niles stared at the device. It was strange. The scream had been, he thought, much louder than even the static before it. And the girl’s voice had been consistent. Usually the spirit box threw at them all sorts of voices and tones, clips of phrases that didn’t make sense. But everything she had said had made sense. It had made more than sense, she had spoken in complete sentences for gods’ sake. That had _never_ happened. 

Niles, blinked, forcing himself back to reality. There was a practical reason behind this. The spirit box was the easiest instrument to explain away, after all. There must be a drama theater station in the area, it was the only explanation for it. And Odin’s finger must have bumped the volume dial just as the scream came through. Yeah. It wasn’t _actually_ a ghost. That would be ludicrous. Just a series of coincidences, like always. 

“Niles, I have wonderful news!” Odin said, bouncing back from his phone call to Niles’ side. He was rocking on the balls of his feet and there was an expression on his face akin to a kid in a candy store. Niles’ heart stuttered involuntarily as he thought, _‘Cute’_. “Leo would like us to stay the night!” 

“Of course he would,” Niles groaned. 

“In this room, where the activity is centralized,” Odin added, gesturing to the landscape behind them. 

It was no less than what Niles was expecting, but he followed the sweep of Odin’s arm and his jaw dropped. 

He had slept near Odin before. Most of the time when they slept in haunted locations it was side by side on the floor in their separate sleeping bags. But even that seemed like a far cry from the double bed looking at him across the room. It was just large enough of a mattress to beckon them both, but just small enough that Niles could already see the rough night ahead of him. 

_‘If you make it through this you can ask for transfer,’_ Niles reminded himself. _‘Just one more job. One night. You can do this.’_

More cameras were set up around the room. Thermal cameras, motion sensors, regular video cameras, all sorts of expensive equipment that was being put together to catch something that wasn’t real. If there was going to be a ghostly spectre leaning over Odin and Niles in the middle of the night while they slept, they would catch it for sure. But it had never happened before. They were alone in this house. The only way they would be visited by an outside entity was if someone broke in, a very real possibility that Niles actually feared. Flesh and blood people were far more frightening than the supposed intangible energy they left behind. 

It was the middle of the night by the time they were finally ready for bed. They had started this investigation in the dark and had taken several hours to set up after the orders from Leo. Usually, if they didn’t find any evidence within a few hours of entering a location, they were permitted to leave. But the eerie evidence from the spirit box had prompted a much longer investigation this time. 

Niles was beat and almost didn’t even care that he would have to lay so close to Odin he could smell him all night. He pulled back the comforter and slid into the bed, on top of the sheet that Odin was already under, thinking this was at least one barrier between them. It would discourage his sleeping body from doing anything untoward and revealing. He put his back to Odin, let his head fall into the soft pillow, and took a deep breath, ready for an easy sleep to wash over him. 

“Niles.” His eye flew open, staring at the closet across from him. He could feel the tickle of Odin’s breath on his neck. How close were they? Sure, the bed was small for two grown men, but if Odin respected his space and stayed on the edge of his side like he was they couldn’t be that close. “Niles,” Odin whispered again. Niles groaned and half rolled over so that he could peer over his shoulder. 

Sure enough, Odin was propped up on one elbow, looking down at Niles’ curled up form. He was so close, the glow from a nearby recorder lit up his emerald eyes. There was innocence in them. Niles’ stomach churned. The desire to take that innocence and see what he could meld it into roared to life in him. This was exactly what he had been trying to avoid. 

“Do you really still not believe in the paranormal?” Odin asked, now that he had Niles’ attention. “After everything that happened today? After that conversation on the spirit box?” 

Niles sucked in a breath and held it, trying to calm his racing heart. His voice came out gravelly when he said, “I believe that you believe that you were talking to a ghost today,” he said plainly. “The human mind has a way of letting us see only what we want to see.” 

“Isn’t that just what you’re doing?” Odin asked, frowning. His voice was still low. The nearest camcorder was a few feet away from the bed. Was he trying to ensure their conversation wasn’t picked up? Did he not want Leo to hear what they discussed? Leo didn’t strictly know that Niles didn’t believe in ghosts. Niles had never outright lied to him, but he had omitted some information. Perhaps Odin was being conscious of that. “Aren’t you just seeing what you want to see? The absence of spirits? Isn’t your mind taking the evidence we find and turning it into something you can explain away with coincidence?” 

Niles huffed out a sigh and resigned to lay on his back. He only had the one eye and he wanted to see Odin better if this was going to be a prolonged discussion. “Maybe,” he grunted. “Maybe I don’t _want_ ghosts to be real.” 

“Why? Doesn’t the idea of existence after death comfort you? Doesn’t it fill you with a sense of purpose, of meaning? Of destiny?” 

“No,” Niles growled. “Can’t say it does.” 

“But _why_?” 

Niles stared into Odin’s green eyes as they searched his own face. They were both looking for something. For something to break through, to convince the other that their ideas of the universe were more correct. Or maybe Odin was just trying to understand Niles better, to connect with him about how he felt about life after death. What you believed to be the answer to one of the biggest questions in the universe said a lot about your character after all. Niles felt his skin boil at the idea of being perceived, of being known. He pulled his gaze away from Odin and was ashamed at the weakness of it, but if he was choosing honesty for once in his life he couldn’t also maintain eye contact. It was too much. 

“If ghosts were real, there would be a lot of spirits wandering around carrying grudges with me. Ex bosses, ex lovers. People I robbed or cheated. If ghosts were real, I would already know because I would be extremely haunted. So, let's just say, I’m grateful there’s nothing left of people when they leave this life. I’m grateful for the opportunity to put the past behind me. I just gotta keep moving forward.” 

“Niles,” Odin said, his tone low, barely a whisper. “That’s…” 

Niles resisted the urge to flinch. Being around Odin sometimes made him forget that he had walls up. He was just on the other side of them, already inside Niles’ boundaries, as if he belonged there. Making himself at home. Niles rolled over, his back to Odin and sucked in a deep breath. “Try to get some shut eye, ghost boy,” he said before attempting to follow his own advice. At least Odin, for his part, did not say another word, and the bed shifted as he settled into it. 

*** 

Niles wanted to reach out and grab Odin. He wanted to wield Odin like a god would wield a bolt of lightning. Proudly. Dangerously. Every moment he spent with Odin felt like danger. Like he could get in too deep and then lose it all. He was not good at gambling in honest games, and everything about Odin was honest. His words, his thoughts, his actions. Even his name, which Niles knew he hadn’t been born with, was never really a lie. He embodied the name Odin. He was larger than life, a legend in his own right. 

All of it frightened Niles, but what frightened him more, when he was being truly honest with himself, the thought that he would never get to hold all that grandeur in the palm of his hand. He wanted to feel Odin surge beneath his flesh, charge him up like a battery, electrify him until he was dust. He wanted to be made into something and then dismantled into nothing under Odin’s touch. He longed for it. He reached. He grasped. He held. Odin was warm, but Niles always knew he would be. He had a fire coursing through his blood. Purpose and determination made the heart grow stronger, made it pump harder. He had wonderful circulation. 

Odin was so close like this, and Niles knew, suddenly, that it was okay. This wasn't real. He could grab Odin, hold him close, keep himself warm. He could breathe in that smell that intoxicated him, called to him every time they passed each other too closely. He could finally linger on it, identify it. The salt of the sea and the burn of the sun. Odin’s homeland leaving little traces in his molecules, something so foreign and beautiful. It gave Niles wanderlust. He wanted to wander through Odin, to discover every little inch of him. He synced his breathing up with Odin, knowing that for once in his life he was doing it right with someone else in the lead. He could melt into Odin, carve a space for himself in Odin’s life. Live there forever. It _wasn’t_ real. 

A muffled voice vibrated along their contact. Niles could feel it in his nerves. Odin’s face was close. So close. They could kiss. Niles would be content with this, just this cuddling, but a kiss would be really nice. He could more than content. He could even be happy, perish the thought. But Odin was using his mouth. He was talking. Whispering. The words went right into Niles’ cheek. He could breathe them in. The sweet nothings that Odin gave him. A new brand of aromatherapy. 

“Niles,” Odin whispered. 

Niles’ breath stuttered. He could feel the bed around him, could feel his body wrapped around Odin, but not quite. There was something between them, a barrier of reality. It was how he knew he was dreaming. He was okay. He could have this. 

“Niles,” Odin whispered again. And then, “The ghost.” 

Niles opened his eye. He wasn’t dreaming. He wasn’t even asleep anymore, he was wide awake. His heart was pounding. And his arms... His arms were wrapped around Odin. The barrier between them was the sheet Niles had intentionally put there. He had forgotten. 

Niles shot upwards in bed and moved himself back to his spot. At some point in his sleep, Niles had really moved closer to Odin and reached out and grabbed him. And Odin had let him? Or perhaps he hadn’t noticed? It was still okay, Niles was pretty sure he could fib his way out of this. He had lied about worse in his life, and while he didn’t enjoy lying to Odin this was a special case. A desperate case. 

“Odin,” Niles grunted. His voice was thick with sleep. Good, maybe that could be used in his favor, to mask all of the emotion running through his veins right now. “Listen, that was just-” 

“Shh,” Odin said. His eyes were wide and Niles really looked at him now. He was on edge, his eyes wide, his limbs stiff, his mouth pulled into a long straight line. His emerald pupils bounced from Niles to the foot of the bed, but he moved his head very slowly after them, as if afraid to startle a wild animal. Niles followed his gaze with much less tact, and almost fell out of bed from the shock of what he found. 

Standing at the foot of their bed, as if it were a completely normal thing to do, was a woman. She was dressed in a white gown. She had white hair and white skin. No, not white. Translucent. Niles could see right through her. And she was glowing. The room was pitch black, save the small flickering lights of the recording cameras around them and the sliver of moonlight that poked in around the window curtain. But the girl was illuminated. 

“Is… That…” Niles started, his voice barely even giving substance to the words that his mouth formed. 

“A full bodied apparition,” Odin whispered back. “And we have her on camera.” 

Niles swallowed. Impossible. This was _impossible_. 

Wait, were they in danger? 

“Helped,” the girl said. Her voice was… dreamy. It sounded as if it was coming from inside a pool. Hazy, muffled around the edges. But Niles could hear her clearly. Or maybe he felt it in his hammering heart. 

“Help,” Odin repeated, his voice shockingly even as he spoke out loud. “Help you with what?” 

The girl shook her head, very slowly, as if she was swimming again, and then smiled. It was a smile that broke Niles’ heart on impact. There was such an intense sadness in it, something that was hurt and would never be repaired. Only living flesh had the ability to heal. “You already helped,” she clarified, her words dragged out and slow as she struggled to make them, to bring them into a plane of existence was not meant for. “You taught me… move forward. I shouldn’t… linger? In the past. It hurts. The past hurts.” 

Niles was speechless, but that had never been a problem for Odin. He crawled across the bed, just a little, just to lean on his hands and knees and look at the ghost earnestly when he said, “The past might hurt, but you don’t have to continue existing in it. It is your destiny. It is everyone’s destiny to move onto the next life. Relinquish your earthly regrets. Shed them like heavy armor. Move forward lighter. Become who you are meant to be.” 

“Forward…” the ghost repeated. Then, after a thoughtful pause. “I will now. Thank you. Goodbye.” 

And then, in a soft gasp that filled every corner of the room, she was gone. 

Niles thought he understood silence. He thought he had explored so many empty houses, that the little creaks and moans were figments of his imagination or had practical reasons. But this was a true absence. There _had_ been something here, and it was gone now. The silence was almost suffocating. 

“Niles,” Odin said after a breathless moment. “I don’t think I can go back to sleep.” 

“Well that makes one of us. I _know_ I won’t be able to,” Niles said. 

Odin looked at him, and he reflexively looked back. When he saw the sly look on Odin’s face, though, he almost flinched away. “So,” Odin said, his voice low and teasing. A decent mockery of Niles. “ _Now_ do you believe in ghosts?” 

Niles grunted and threw up his arms in a dramatic shrug. “Can I answer that question later? When we’re home? After some coffee and… review? I need to look at what we just saw before I make any conclusions.” 

“So you admit it's not _not_ possible!” 

“I’m not admitting anything, I’m just… It’s the middle of the night and I’d like to see the tapes.” 

Odin groaned loudly and casually flipped his legs out of his side of the bed. He began to gather up their equipment, slipping cameras into bags and folding up tripods. He talked as he worked, his mouth moving a mile a minute, and Niles just watched him, captivated. “There won’t be any more evidence anyway. We should get all this back to headquarters and show Leo right away. A full bodied apparition, Niles! And we helped her cross over!! I thought the spirit box evidence was solid, but this was… This is going to change the whole ghost hunting community! My name will be known far and wide! Odin Dark will haunt households like the very ghosts I hunt!” 

Niles pulled himself out of bed halfway through the fiery speech. It was better than coffee, honestly, hearing Odin ramble. It was a jolt through Niles’ senses, impossible to ignore. He smiled to himself as he worked, dismounting and folding up the very expensive equipment. He even forgot, for a brief second, what he had been caught doing right before the ghost had appeared. 

The van jolted to life a few minutes later. All of the equipment was packed up in the racks in the back, secure and prepared for travel. Niles slid into the passenger seat and Odin buckled himself into the driverside, leaning forward to turn on the ignition. He was smiling to himself, humming as he made sure all of his mirrors were aligned, unable to keep quiet even though his brain was preoccupied with other things now. And Niles, in this interim, was hit with the realization of what he had done. 

He wasn’t going to mention it. He was going to sit in his seat, wide awake and think about how fast and quickly he could get away from his job. Even though everything he thought he knew was a lie. Ghosts were real, and this industry was about to be booming. He could make a pretty penny if he stuck it out. But the thought of working alongside Odin after what he had- Impossible. He couldn’t. He had to run, just like he always did. Another ghost in his past to haunt him. 

They pulled out onto the highway. The black of dead night was pressing in around the van’s headlights. They could only see the trees rushing by and the yellow painted lines of the road flying beneath them. There was no one around, but Odin still kept his hands on ten and two and his eyes on the road. Like he was driving precious cargo. He was, in a way. Hundreds of thousands of Leo’s dollars sat in the back of the truck. That was all. 

“Niles,” Odin said in the emptiness. He always started his thoughts like that. With Niles’ name. Pulling him along on the wild journeys Odin’s mind took him on. Holding his hand. Not really though. Niles shook his head as subtly as he could, banishing the thought. 

“What?” he grunted, managing his voice very carefully. “If this is about the ghost-” 

“Not really,” Odin said. 

His voice was unreadable. Niles didn’t want to look, but he had to. He turned his head from the window, needing to read Odin’s expression, to understand what kind of situation he was in. He was exposed if he didn’t know his enemy’s next move. But Niles didn’t find what he was expecting. Odin was… smirking. 

“I want to talk about what happened last night,” Odin said, easily enough. He said everything easily. Words were the easiest for him. Niles’ words got stuck in his throat beneath a pile of lies and misdirections. 

“Oh,” Niles said, playing it off. “That. It was nothing. I was just-” 

“I know it wasn’t nothing.” Odin couldn’t look at him properly because he was driving, but he could flick his eyes toward Niles briefly. A flash of green. An offered clue of sincerity. “You know I wasn’t bothered, right? I never have been.” 

Niles blinked. He was confused. “Bothered?” 

“About your feelings,” Odin said. “I’ve known for a long time, of course.” 

“Of course,” Niles repeated, flatly. “And what feelings would those be?” 

With a grunt and a sigh, Odin flicked a button on the steering wheel to activate cruise control. He moved his left hand to twelve and the right he reached out toward the consol. Where Niles’ hand was resting. Niles jumped when their fingers brushed, like he hadn’t been expecting it, like he hadn’t literally watched Odin move his arm. Odin held fast though, entwining their fingers over the back of Niles hand and holding him in place on the consol. Niles could feel someone’s heart breathing through their connection. His own? Odin’s? It was impossible to tell. 

“I was waiting for you to make a move. I was being incredibly patient, you know. I always knew true love was worth waiting for you, and you had a lot going on. But, well, the spirit tonight was not the only person you taught a thing or two about relinquishing the past and blazing forward.” 

“Uh,” Niles stuttered. “What?” 

“I want you Niles,” Odin said. And then he paused, and continued with, “While our hearts are still beating on this earth, I want you. No more looking back. Only looking forward.” 

Niles bit his mouth shut. He let himself feel Odin’s skin on his own. Let his words sink in. Even let himself believe them. He sucked in a deep breath and then, in a husky voice, he said, “Pull over.” 

“What?” Odin said. 

“I said pull over, Odin,” Niles repeated, firmly. “There was something I wanted to do in that bed that I didn’t get the chance to because I was interrupted by the waking dead.” 

“Oh. Right.” Odin pulled his hand back so he could turn on his flashers and obey Niles’ request. 

The sun was painting the sky in warm colors by the time Odin and Niles emerged from the woods, rumpled and giggly with passion. They were hand in hand, gazes locked, legs tripping over each other as they stumbled back to the van. Niles had never felt more disarmed. He had never felt more alive. He had never quite felt his own heart beat as strongly in his chest, let alone someone else’s heart beating right beside him. He was so alive and grateful for the future. As it so turned out, he wasn’t going to ask for a job transfer. He could manage to stick this one out a little longer. And who knows, he might even start enjoying himself now if he let himself start to believe. He was probably going to. Being in love was as good a time as any to start believing in something, after all.


End file.
